When they reached the cars, Emily said, “I suppose it’ll be all right for you to give me a nickname.” She jammed her fists on her hips. “But not Short Stuff.”
Jake pretended to think about it. “How about Babycakes?”
Emily snorted.
“Sugar Pie?”
She rolled her eyes in disgust.
“Choochi Face?”
“Mr. Ja-a-ke.”
“I’m out of ideas. What do you suggest?”
“You may call me Princess.”
He let out a bark of laughter and bowed. “All right, Your Majesty.”
“You’re funny, Mr. Jake.”
Maggie’s lips twitched. “Hop in and fasten your seatbelt, Em.”
Emily gave a theatrically royal sigh and did as she was told.
Maggie turned to Jake. “I’ll email you the details of what we’ve discussed, as well as a list of items you may want to purchase.”
“Great. Thanks.” When she got in the car, he added, “Don’t forget Mom’s invitation.”
“I won’t.” She closed her door.
Jake watched them drive away. Emily waved enthusiastically until they were out of sight. Grinning, he walked to his M-Class. Cute kid. Just like her mom.
As he got in his SUV and started the engine, he replayed his visit to the house. The near kiss in the bedroom. The tense situation on the stairs. If only Maggie didn’t have the baggage of her past, she’d be perfect for him.
He stopped the thought with a shake of his head. The problem wasn’t Maggie’s baggage.
It was his.
He looked back at the Victorian. Everything was working out fine. The season was right around the corner. He’d found the home he’d been searching for. His new life was pretty much on track. Why, suddenly, did that not seem enough anymore?
CHAPTER SIX
WHEN MAGGIE ACCEPTED Jake’s invitation to the Labor Day barbecue, she hadn’t imagined the view from the Badoletti’s deck would be so spectacular.
A dozen men, half bare chested and half wearing sleeveless vests were embroiled in a game of American football. She’d never seen such a prime collection of six-packs, glutes and pecs.
“Holy cr—”
Maggie cut Tracy off with a stern look. “Little pitchers.” She patted Emily’s head.
“Sorry.” Her sister grinned sheepishly. “But take a look at that.”
She followed Tracy’s gaze to the tangle of men. “Oh, my.”
Jake. Shirtless. Glorious.
Muscles rippled in his broad chest as he scrambled free and leaped to catch the ball. Her heart thudded at the lean, corded strength in his arms and legs.
He must have sensed her watching, because his gaze homed in on her like an ice-blue laser. His triumphant grin turned feral as his eyes skimmed her body from head to toe, lingering on her bare shoulders before dropping to the hem of her sundress and focusing on her legs. Then he winked and turned back to the game.
She exhaled deeply. Jake Badoletti was one hard man to ignore.
“You’ve been holding back on me,” murmured Tracy, as Emily sat on the steps. “What’s going on between you and Bad Boy?”
Maggie swallowed. “Nothing.”
“Uh-huh. That look made my temperature go up thirty degrees, and he wasn’t aiming it at me.”
“Jake’s all wrong for me.” She ignored her body’s vehement disagreement.
“I’m not suggesting you marry him. What’s the harm in a couple of dates?”
That’s how it had started with Lee. The perfect antidote to her father’s dictatorial rule, her ex had offered everything a sheltered eighteen-year-old had dreamed of. His charm had thrilled, while his brooding good looks had tempted. But the prison he’d trapped her in had been far worse than the one she’d left behind.
Still, that didn’t stop her wondering what a date with Jake would be like. How it would feel to have his attention, his charm focused solely on her. To be the woman in the glamorous dress, on his arm as they went to a smart restaurant or a Broadway show. How the evening might end with...
Stop! She wouldn’t let her mind stroll down that dangerous path.
“You could have a short, hot-and-heavy fling.”
Maggie ignored the tempting images flitting through her brain and the twinkle in Tracy’s eyes. “That’s not why I came to the States.”
“I know, but what a nice bonus.”
“I want a quiet, normal life. Free from the constant pressure of being in the sights of the paparazzi lenses. From the stress of knowing everything I do will be splashed across the gossip media and analysed to death.” She sighed. “It’s my only chance to live the way I choose, instead of kowtowing to someone else’s rules and expectations. I want to be free to be me—whatever me is. A man doesn’t figure into that right now. Least of all, one like Jake.”